


Mine

by HelldiverOfLykos



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Actual kidnapping later, Alpha John, Alpha Victor, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, None of this happens between John and Sherlock so don't worry, Omega Sherlock, Omegaverse, Pain, Physical Abuse, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Abuse, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelldiverOfLykos/pseuds/HelldiverOfLykos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John are enjoying their new bond, until an Alpha turns up in their flat to "claim what's his." When that fails, he turns to a certain Consulting Criminal for help to try to separate the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. His To Find

**Author's Note:**

> My first Omegaverse, guys, so please be nice to this trash can ^_^
> 
> Just something to note: there isn't any graphic violence, but there may be graphic depictions of pain, so just keep that in mind. This one is going to be a bit darker than the stuff I've written before, and I really hope it doesn't get too dark. I've tried to tag it as best as I can according to what I've planned out so far, and I'll add tags as needed as it progresses.
> 
> The first part of this chapter is a flashback.

_Rough hands pushed him into a darkened room. He gasped as he hit the floor, but regretted it almost immediately. The whole room **reeked** of Alpha._

_**Notgoodnotgoodnotgood.....** _

_He glanced up at the dark figure towering above him._

_**Shoulders squared, back straightened, head held high... This is NOT going to end well.** _

_"You let him touch you. You belong to **me** and no one else, do you understand, **Omega**?" he growled, practically spitting out the last word._

_"Calm down, please. My Heat is almost here and it's making you behave irratio-"_

_"SHUT UP!"_

_The bitter scent of fear flooded the room as the Omega drew back._

_**Better to pretend to be submissive than to aggress him any further...** _

_"You **will** stay here. I won't have anyone else trying to take what's **mine** ," the Alpha snarled._

_He turned and walked out the door before the Omega could say a word. The door slammed, a key turned in the lock, and the Omega was alone._

_***_

_**Too hot.** _

_The Omega pulled at his clothes. The fabric rubbed almost painfully at his over-sensitive skin. Even the thousand-count sheets underneath him felt coarse and abrasive._

_He finally, **finally** rid himself of his clothes and flopped back onto the bed. A dull ache and a horrible **emptiness** clawed at his insides, but he was too weak to do anything about it. Two entire days without food doesn't exactly build up your strength._

_**Where is he? He promised he'd come back.** _

_The Omega winced. Did his Alpha decide to leave him for good? Where was he? Why did he break his promise?_

_To make things worse, he had left him in a room that smelled like Alpha **everywhere**. At times, it made the weakened Omega reach out for a body that he never found, sniffing desperately to find the source of the tantalising scent._

_It was torture._

_A fresh wave of need crashed over the Omega, and his weakened body gave in to the beckoning darkness._

_***_

_He came back to a room flooded with Omega pheromones and a near-unconscious Omega lying on his bed._

_"A-alpha?" the Omega whispered._

_"It came. It came and YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"_

_"I-I couldn't. I had no way t-to-"_

_The Alpha grabbed the Omega's arms hard enough to leave bruises on the pale skin._

_"You **useless, good-for-nothing** BITCH."_

_The Omega curled into himself with every venemous word the Alpha spat at him. Maybe it was better to keep quiet and take what the Alpha, his Alpha, was going to give him._

_A loud **crack** rang in his ears. Pain seared across his face._

_**He slapped me. My Alpha slapped me...** _

_The Omega just sat frozen in shock._

_**He slapped me. My Alpha slapped me. My Alpha hurt me.** _

_" **Useless.** That's what you are. Utterly useless."_

_Rough hands shoved him to the ground. He barely felt the blows on his starvation-weakened body. He couldn't tell when reality ended and darkness started. Why would he care? The one person he had trusted and **loved** had turned on him, called him **useless** , when before, there had been loving touches, neverending praises, **happiness**._

_The Omega closed his eyes._

_**Let the darkness come. Anything is better than facing the pain right now.** _

_***_

_He awoke to sunlight streaming in from the open door. He was still lying on the cold, hard floor where his Alpha had left him._

_**His Alpha.** _

_Did he even deserve that title, that position in his life, after what he had done? He had **left** him, beat him up, hurt him not just physically, but emotionally, as well, and had even let him **starve**._

_No, he didn't deserve to have that title. He didn't deserve his love. Why was it so hard to decide to leave him, then?_

_The Omega frowned. If he had **beat him up** because of something like this, he didn't want to think about what would happen to him if he told him he wanted to leave him. He would have to run. He couldn't get stuck with him. He just couldn't. There was too much risk to his safety. And he didn't dare to think about what would happen if it eventually got out of hand. It would go from beatings to... NO, he certainly didn't want to even **think** about sexual assault. Or murder. It certainly was a possibility, but it was definitely one he didn't want to entertain._

_He had to get out of here. Now._

_He snatched his clothes from the floor and dressed as quickly as his current physical state would allow him to. Then, he rose unsteadily to his feet. Using the wall to steady himself, he made his way to the door and peeked outside._

_**Empty. Good.** _

_He crept down the corridor and made his way downstairs. The house was totally empty. He slipped out the back door and ran as fast as he could away from the house before stumbling and falling flat on his face. He took one last look at the large beige house._

_"Goodbye, Victor," he whispered, and fled, never looking back._

***

Bright morning light streamed in through a crack in the curtains. Two head peeked out from the sheets: one silver-and-wheat, and the other dark and curly. Two bodies lay intertwined: one Alpha and one Omega.

Light kisses trailed along his neck and shoulders. Gentle fingers traced the hollow of his hipbones. Soft lips brushed the shell of his ear.

_His Alpha._

"Good morning, love."

The Omega stirred. Blue-green-grey eyes fluttered open. The dark head turned to face the blond one.

"Good morning, John. My Alpha."


	2. His To Claim

Sherlock and John. Two parts to a whole. The sun and the moon, the day and the night, light and darkness, Alpha and Omega. They were perfect for each other. The best part was that they knew it and believed it with all their hearts. 

What they had was different from anything he had ever experienced, Sherlock mused as he gazed into John's eyes.

They had spent the past three and a half days in bed because of Sherlock's Heat. Their bedroom was littered with food packaging: empty wrappers, a few banana peels and apple cores, and the occasional empty can. The whole room smelled strongly of _Sherlock and John, dark forest and warm sunlight, Alpha and Omega_. If you ignored the scent of _Heat sex need my Omega my Alpha minemineMINE_ , that was.

Sherlock sighed happily and scooted a little closer to John. John smiled and kissed his Mate, slow and sweet, as hands roamed and explored, golden hands over marble skin, violinist's fingers over a soldier's body. When they finally pulled away, Sherlock tucked his head under John's chin. John chuckled softly, pecking the top of Sherlock's head and tangling their fingers together.

"Has it ended? Your Heat, I mean "

"Mm, it would appear so. I don't feel the clawing need to be fucked into the bed anymore."

John rolled his eyes slightly.

"That doesn't mean that I'm against having another round, though," Sherlock purred, propping himself up on his arm.

"We've been doing nothing but having sex and sleeping for the past three days."

"Doesn't mean I want you any less." A sly grin crept onto Sherlock's face.

"Go and take a shower first, love, then we'll think about it," John replied, pecking Sherlock's lips. He chuckled at the faked pout that Sherlock shot him before he sauntered to the bathroom.

Sherlock emerged from the bathroom soon after in a burt of steam, clad in his pyjama bottoms, old t-shirt, and dressing gown. He gave John a quick peck on the lips before going to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. But as he stepped into the kitchen, a figure barged through the door and, seeing Sherlock, grabbed his wrists tightly. A sickeningly strong Alpha scent filled his nostrils. A scent he knew. A scent that made him want to run and run and run until his lungs burst.

"Victor," he whispered, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice.

"Yes. _Victor,_ " he sneered. "How long has it been since you've even _thought_ about me? Hm? How long has it been since you left me for another Alpha?"

"I wasn't cheating on you. I-I was scared," Sherlock replied, wincing inwardly at the unsteadiness in his voice.

"Scared of what? Me? Your Alpha? Why would you be scared of the one you _promised to Bond to_? No, you left me because there was someone else, you _liar_ ," he growled.

"There wasn't. Not then."

_Oh, shit. Stupid, stupid, STUPID!_

"'Not then?' That implies that you have someone _now..._ " Victor's eyes narrowed.

_Nonononono..._

Victor grabbed a fistful of dark curls and forced Sherlock's head to the side. Sherlock couldn't prevent the pained cry from escaping his lips. He could practically _feel_ Victor's fiery gaze track over his bondmark.

"So this is what you've been doing since you left. Sleeping around with other Alphas, have you? You dirty little _slut_." He shook Sherlock hard on the last word.

_Click._

"Let. My. Mate. Go," John said, his voice dangerously soft. He had his handgun pointed at Victor's head. His aim was perfectly steady, and his eyes flashed with cobalt blue fury.

A small wave of relief washed over Sherlock.

_John. My Alpha._

Victor jerked Sherlock's head closer to his.

"So this is your Mate, eh? You left me for _him?_ " he hissed.

"I said let my Mate go. I _will_ shoot you if you don't get your hands off him." John readjusted his grip on the gun.

"John, please-" Sherlock began.

"Sherlock, he's not just going to walk into our territory, assault my Mate and get away scot free."

"He's not yours. He's _my Omega,_ " Victor growled.

"No, he's _my_ Mate, so I'd really appreciate it if you took your dirty hands off him."

"Or what?" he scoffed.

"I'll put a bullet in your head. I've killed for Sherlock before. I'm not afraid to do it again."

Victor released Sherlock with a rough shake. Sherlock stumbled forward, and John stepped between Victor and Sherlock, his gun still trained on Victor's head.

"Leave. _Now,_ " John ground out.

"This isn't over, Sherlock. I'm still going to claim you," Victor called over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs.

John followed Victor out the door and stood at the top of the stairs until he was sure Victor had left.

Sherlock could feel _protectmyMateprotectmyterritoryneutralizethreat_ bleed through their Bond. A small smile crept on his face.

"It's ok, John. We're safe," he said softly.

"No, it's _not._ He came into _our_ territory and he hurt you, my Mate. I should have come sooner-"

Sherlock laid a hand on John's arm.

"Stop worrying. I'm fine."

"No, you aren't," John whispered. "I can feel it through the Bond. Your head hurts and your wrists are bruised."

Sherlock directed his gaze at the floor.

"Who was he? He said you were his Omega-"

"Never. Refer. To. Me. Like. That." Sherlock hissed.

John pursed his lips and frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry. I forgot you don't like it."

"He's the reason why I hate being called _someone's Omega._ It makes me feel dirty, low, _worthless,_ " Sherlock spat.

John took Sherlock's hand.

"Can you tell me who he is?"

"His name is Victor Trevor. He was my boyfriend in Uni. He was the perfect boyfriend at first, but after he spent one Heat with me, he started to get very possessive. He refused to let anyone _touch_ me. As my next Heat approached, we agreed that we would Bond if he changed his behavior. He managed to restrain himself, but a few days before my Heat, he snapped. He locked me up in his bedroom so that nobody could touch me, and promised to come back for me. He didn't return until my Heat had ended. He beat me up for no reason at all. The fact the he had left me in a room that smelled of Alpha for the entirety of my Heat and had left me no food at all didn't help my condition. When I finally regained consciousness, I ran as fast I could and never looked back. I haven't seen or heard anything about Victor until now."

John frowned.

"He still thinks you should belong to him after all this time. That's why he's back. To claim 'what's his.'"

"Exactly. I'm not sure how far he would go to get what he wants, though."

"Don't worry," John soothed, stroking Sherlock's cheek. "We'll figure this out."

***

_Open chat: Daddy_

**VicTheTrevor:**  
Please, Jim, will you fix it for me to get rid of my Omega's bond with another Alpha?

 **Daddy:**  
Your Omega is with another Alpha?

 **VicTheTrevor:**  
He was unfaithful. I need to bond to dissolve to teach him a lesson.

 **Daddy:**  
Ask nicely.

 **VicTheTrevor:**  
Please, Jim?

**Daddy:**  
Not Jim... 

**VicTheTrevor:**  
Please, Daddy? 

**Daddy:**  
Give me the name of the Alpha. 

**VicTheTrevor:**  
John Watson. 

**Daddy:**  
Tell you what, I'll do it for free. Just promise and make sure that neither Alpha nor Omega are harmed. 

**VicTheTrevor:**  
Fine.

 **Daddy:**  
That's no way to talk to your...

**VicTheTrevor:**  
Daddy. 

**Daddy:**  
Perfect. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some things to attend to. 

**VicTheTrevor:**  
Goodbye, and thank you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. Jim is a sick little pervert.


	3. His To Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will hurt. Just saying.

John worried incessantly about Sherlock for the next three days. He knew that Sherlock could take care of himself, but Victor was so bold as to come into their flat just to find Sherlock. Who knew what he would do next? So he stayed as close to Sherlock as possible without getting in his way. He carried his gun with him everywhere and tried to keep him in his field of vision as much as possible. It all sounded a bit overkill, but Sherlock was his Mate. He had vowed to protect his Mate with his life, and that was exactly what he was going to do.

But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

On the fourth night since Victor appeared in Baker Street, John lay in bed next to Sherlock, staying awake for the fourth night in a row. He couldn't sleep. He just _couldn't._ Not with a delusional Victor Trevor trying to claim Sherlock as his Mate when he was already Bonded to John. He sighed and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up.

In the few seconds when his eyes were shut, he felt a small stab of pain in his neck. His eyes flew open, and his arm reached back to rub at the nape of his neck. Instead of warm skin, his fingers met with a small syringe. He tried to pull it away, but it didn't take long for sleep to come and take him captive.

_No. SHERLOCK!_

***

Sherlock fretted inwardly for the next three days after Victor appeared in Baker Street. He would never let it show, but he was afraid. He wasn't afraid of what Victor what do to him. He had John to protect him, and he wasn't exactly helpless. No, he was afraid of Victor's unpredictability. Victor was hotheaded and impulsive. There was no telling what he would do next. There was no telling how far he would go to get what he wanted. 

He was more worried for John than he was for himself. Victor would try to target John and take him out of the picture. If he couldn't predict what Victor was going to do next, he couldn't keep John safe.

He spent the next three nights after Victor's appearace lying awake in bed. John didn't know. John couldn't know. John was probably worrying himself sick about him as it was. He didn't need to give John any reason to worry about his health and mental state as well.

But on the fourth night, he couldn't help it. He was exhausted. He didn't even know he had fallen alseep until he woke. The comforting warmth and presence of _John_ disappeared from his side. Sherlock whined softly in protest and reached out to pull John back to his side.

Instead of finding a soldier's body, his fingers met with cold air and empty bed. Before he could open his eyes, he felt the prick of a needle in the nape of his neck, and sleep dragged him back down into the inky blackness of night.

***

Warmth. Light. Pain. These are what John Watson awoke to.

He groaned opened his eyes slowly, trying to aduist to the bright, artificial light in what looked like a concrete cell. The air was horribly warm and humid around him. As his brain slowly came back online, he realized he was tied to a chair. Ropes dug into his wrists and ankles.

Another chair was placed in front of his. A suit-clad figure sat in it. A suit-clad Beta, going by the scent.

"Wakey wakey, Johnny boy," a voice sang.

_No. Not **him.** em>_

As the world around him came into focus, his fears were confirmed. Jim Moriarty sat in front of him, his hair slicked back and suit immaculate as always.

"Took you long enough. I was starting to think that you'd never wake up. But that would mean that my dear Sebastian had screwed up completely, which would mean that I would have to... dispose of him. Thankfully, he used just the right amount of sedative." Jim's tone was casual, almost as if he were having a normal conversation and not talking to a captive.

"What do you want?" John gritted out through his teeth. "Sherlock's going to come for me. You know he will. But he's not going to give you what you want."

"Don't be silly, Johnny. I don't want anything from Sherlock. You're not a hostage."

"Then why did you kidnap me?"

"It's just a job. This has absolutely nothing to do with The Great Game."

_Oh no._

"W-who hired you?" John asked softly, his voice almost a whisper.

"Victor Trevor. Ever heard of him? Sherlock's ex. Told me he needed a certain Bond dissolved."

_No. Nonono..._

"What are you going to do to me?"

"If you're scared about _dying,_ you're pretty stupid. I need you alive, Johnny. You and Sherlock both. We're not done with our Game yet. I still need both of you. Once I'm ready, I'll kill you. Slowly. I'll make your precious Sherlock watch as the life bleeds from your broken body. Or we could do it the other way around, I guess. Either way, I need you alive, or there is no Game to play."

"What are you going to do, then? You can't break a bond without the death of either the Alpha or Omega."

Jim smiled, cold and icy, before pulling a syringe from his suit jacket.

"New drug. It can break Bonds just as effectively as death. Guess who gets to try it out..." he sing-songed as he approached John.

He shoved up the sleeve of John's t-shirt and stuck the needle in his arm. At that exact moment, a wave of _feardesperationJOHNWHEREAREYOU_ crashed through the Bond. John winced.

_Sherlock. I'm so sorry. I love you so much._

_JohnJohnJohnconfusionfearnonono_

Pain spiked through John's chest, making him gasp.

_JOHNnononononofearfearfear_

_I'm sorry, Sherlock. This is going to hurt you so much. There was nothing I could do to stop it coming._

A cry of pain escaped from John's lips as more pain shot through his body. It felt as if someone was trying to tear their way into his chest. Tears blurred his vision, and he bit down on his lip, trying to stifle the screams that threatened to come out.

_JOHNJOHNJOHNpainfearpainhelpmeplease_

"Sherlock, be strong. I'm so sorry, love," he choked out. The pain had intensified. It now felt as if he was being stabbed over and over and over in the chest.

_painpainpainpain_

He could feel the Bond pulling apart. He could feel Sherlock's presece fading on the other side. He grabbed on to whatever was left and held on with all of his might. Fresh pain grabbed his chest.

He couldn't hold it back.

He screamed, long and wordless, ripping his throat raw. He could taste blood, he could feel Sherlock slipping away, he saw nothing but stars, but still he held on.

_**Snap.** _

The stars disappeared. Black filled his vision.

The Bond was gone.

***

Sherlock felt a jolt of _fear_ surge through the Bond. He groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He reached out for John, but fond nothing but mussed sheets instead.

He sat bolt upright, instantly awake, and searched the room. No John.

He looked in the kitchen. No John.

He even looked in Mrs. Hudson's flat. No John.

Adrenalin flooded his veins.

_Nonono... John, where are you? Why can't I find you?_

Pain spiked through Sherlock's chest, making him gasp.

_PainSherlockIloveyoupainmustcalmOmegacomfortprotect_

_Oh no. The Bond. It's dissolving. NO! JOHN!_

Sherlock's eyes widened in realization and fear. As far as he knew, a Bond could only be broken by the death of either the Alpha or Omega.

_PainSherlockI'msorryIloveyouI'msorryI'msorrypainpainpain_

Sherlock dropped to the floor. A cry of pain escaped from his lips as more pain shot through his body. It felt as if someone was trying to tear their way into his chest. Tears blurred his vision, and he bit down on his lip, trying to stifle the screams that threatened to come out.

_SHERLOCKbestrongbestrongbestrongI'msosorrypainregretdesperationlove_

"J-John," Sherlock whispered, trying not to writhe on the floor. The pain had intensified. It now felt as if he was being stabbed over and over and over in the chest.

_painpainpainpain_

He could feel the Bond pulling apart. He could feel John's presence fading. The pain increased with every second that passed. His entire body felt like it was on fire, searing each and every nerve and burning right into his very core.

And just like that,

**_Snap._**

A horrible emptiness was the last thing he felt before he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrugs*
> 
> *bellyflops back into trash pile*


	4. His To Save

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAMF!JOHN TIME
> 
> Victor had better watch out...

Victor slowly tread up the stairs to 221B Baker Street. The flat was as quiet as a tomb. He pursed his lips. Jim had better not have fucked this up. If Jim didn't keep his end of the deal, he wouldn't, either.

He looked around the kitchen and in the sitting room. Nobody.

He peered into the bedroom and found a very unconscious Sherlock Holmes sprawled on the floor. He checked Sherlock's breathing.

_Still alive. Good._

Victor picked Sherlock up in his arms and carried him outside.

Oh, the things he would do to him when he woke up.

***

John groaned, his eyes fluttering open. He was acutely aware of the horribly flowery scent of a Beta somewhere in the room.

_Moriarty._

His eyes snapped wide open. The Beta was leaning against the doorframe in his perfectly tailored suit, his hair slicked back as it always was.

"Had a good nap?" he drawled, examining his fingernails.

"How long was I out?" John asked.

"Hmmm... Almost two days, I think. We almost called for a doctor because we couldn't rouse you at all."

John's brow furrowed in worry. What had happened to Sherlock while he was asleep? Was he ok? Had Victor taken him-

_Victor. The slimy little bastard._

_Had he-_

_Did he-_

_Was Sherlock ok?_

Jim seemed to sense what John was thinking about.

"I don't think Victor has... touched him, if that's what you're worried about. However, he isn't entirely ok, either."

John's eyes flashed fire.

"What has he done?" he asked, his voice cold and steady.

"I could tell you, but I think it's better if you saw it for yourself."

"So you're going to taunt me with the fact that I couldn't protect my Mate from that son of a bitch?"

"No," Jim snapped. He placed a gun on the floor and kicked it over to John.

"I'm letting you go, you idiot."

John didn't know how to react. He just sat there and gaped a bit.

"Has your brain stopped working? I said you can go."

"Wh- How- Why, exactly, are you letting me go?" John asked confusedly.

"I finished the job. I'm not going to do anything else to you. You can leave."

"Why would you help me?"

"I'm not helping you. I'm helping myself. I did this only because if I didn't, Victor would look for help elsewhere. Whoever he chose would probably choose killing you over chemically removing the Bond. I couldn't have that. I need you both alive, as I said before, or there is no Game for me to play. So I took the job before anyone else could and thereby ensured that the both of you would live."

"And what about Victor?"

"Fuck him. I can have him disposed of if I need him gone."

"So... I'm basically free to go?"

"Yes."

"Can you untie me, then?"

Jim shook his head.

"You can untie yourself. I retied the ropes using slipknots. Shouldn't take too much effort to free yourself."

"And what if I try to attack you?"

"I can lock you up here for another day or two with no food or water."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Then I'll leave you to it," Jim called over his shoulder as he opened the door and went outside.

"One more question: where the hell am I?"

"Victor Trevor's basement. Sherlock is somewhere upstairs."

John nodded and set to work on the ropes. True enough, they were all tied with slipknots, and he easily rid himself of his restraints. He rose slowly, giving his legs time to adjust after being tied to a chair for two days.

After making sure his arms were working, he picked up the gun from the floor, checked that it was loaded with live ammunition, and flicked the safety off.

_Victor had better run._

***

The house was empty. There was no sign of either Moriarty or Victor. Still, John remained tense. You can never be too careful, he reasoned. Especially when it came to people like Moriarty and Victor.

He caught a whiff of an Omega's scent in the main hallway. _Dark forest, lab disinfectant, old books, and the streets of London._

_Sherlock._

He followed the faint trail of scent up the stairs and down the corridor. It led him right up to a large wooden door with a golden knob.

John twisted the doorknob and peered inside.

The first thing that hit him was the scent of _fearpaindistress._ It made his gut clench and his insides twist. The scent was _so strong._

There was a large bed at one end of the room. A dark figure was curled up against the headboard. His hands were handcuffed above his head. There were cuts on his wrists where the cuffs dug into the delicate skin. Bright purple bruises bloomed across his pale skin. There were small, round finger marks on his arms. His clothes (a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms) were torn in places, exposing more of the milky skin. There were more bruises on his face, as well as a cut on his forehead. Blood had trickled from the cut and dried in a long, dark red streak down his face.

He knew who it was. Sherlock. Obviously.

It was heartbreaking to see him in this state: broken, weakened, exposed, and vulnerable. Sherlock was always so much stronger than you expected him to be. He always knew what to do. He always knew how to say the _exact_ words to cut you down. But now......

John approached Sherlock slowly so as not to send him into a state of panic. He laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, his touch light in case there were more injuries he couldn't see.

Sherlock jumped and curled himself into a tight ball, trying to pull away from John's hand.

"D-don't touch me. Leave me alone, _please,_ " he whispered. His voice was broken and trembling.

John's heart cracked open a little more. Sherlock had been reduced to begging for mercy. What had that sick bastard Victor done to him?

"Sherlock, it's me."

Sherlock stiffened visibly and cracked open an eye. He quickly squeezed it shut again.

"You're not there."

"What?" John asked confusedly.

"You're. Not. There. You're d- gone. Y-you're d-dead," Sherlock choked out.

Sherlock thought he was... dead? How-

Oh.

The Bond. He didn't know about Moriarty or the drug.

"I'm here, Sherlock. It's me."

"No, nonono... STOP LYING TO ME!" he screamed, covering his head with his still-bound arms. "You _died!_ You're not there anymore. I can't feel you anymore. The Bond is gone."

"Sherlock-"

Sherlock laughed wildly, and as he lowered his arms from his face, John could see a crazed look in his eyes. It shocked him to his very core.

_Hysterics. He was in hysterics. Sherlock was in hysterics._

John could have sworn his heart cracked clean in half and fell to his feet. Sherlock, driven to the edge of madness. It was like something plucked from John's worst nightmares.

He serched frantically for the keys to the handcuffs. He spied them on the bedside table, and snatched them up. He quickly freed Sherlock and swept the still-delirious Omega up and into his arms. Sherlock's skin was feverishly hot, making John wince.

_My poor Sherlock. What did he do to you?_

As he turned to leave, the silhouette of a large Alpha appeared in the doorway.

"I believe Sherlock belongs to _me,_ " he growled. "Also, you're supposed to be long gone. Oh, well. At least I get to enjoy breaking your neck."

John laid Sherlock back on the bed.

"Look at what you'e done to him," he hissed. "You've driven him half out of his mind. He is one of the most brilliant people the world has ever seen, and you've mistreated him horribly."

"He's an _Omega._ He's good for nothing but his Heats. He was stupid to think that he could ever escape me and leave me for another Alpha."

"No, he was strong enough to leave you when you crossed the line. Most Omegas would stay, hoping that their Alpha would change, but Sherlock did what was best for himself."

"What's best for him is to stay with me. If he hadn't left in the first place, none of this would have ever happened. And now, he gets to lose you a second time," Victor growled, smiling menacingly.

John whipped out his gun.

"I don't think so."

He fired two shots into Victor's thigh. Victor crumpled to the floor, clutching at his leg and spewing expletives.

"You- You-" he spluttered furiously, too angry to form proper sentences.

"You had better keep away from Sherlock Holmes or next time, I won't be putting a bullet into your leg. It would go in your big, empty skull instead."

John gathered Sherlock back into his arms and stepped over Victor and into the corridor.

_My poor Sherlock. I'm here. You're going to be ok._

_You have to be._


	5. His To The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've noticed that the rating had been changed from Mature to Explicit, you know what's coming.
> 
> *chants* Smut smut smut smut

Sherlock drifted in and out of consciousness for the next day or so. John had brought him back to Baker Street and tucked him into bed. He didn't change Sherlock's clothes or take them off when he checked his injuries. The last thing he wanted was for Sherlock to suddenly wake up and panic again because it appeared like John was trying to violate him.

He slept most of the time, curled up on John's side of the bed. John figured that his scent would help comfort Sherlock, should he wake up to an empty room. When Sherlock did happen to be awake, he rambled deliriously about nonsensical topics. During those episodes, John managed to coax Sherlock into swallowing a few mouthfuls of water or soup.

Sherlock's temperature remained feverishly high for most of the day. John kept a damp cloth on Sherlock's forehead to try and lower his temperature. Somewhere in the middle of the night, the fever broke, at long last.

***

_Tap tap tap. Tap tap-tap tap. Tap-tap._

Sherlock's brow furrowed and tried to open his eyes. As his eyelids fluttered open, he caught sight of John sitting in a chair by his bedside, chicken-pecking at his laptop keyboard.

_John? Could it be?_

_No, it couldn't. He was dead. It was a hallucination._

_Again._

Sherlock glanced down at himself. He had bandages wrapped around his wrists and a dressing plastered over one half of his forehead. He could see dark purple blotches on his arms and legs. There were probably some on his back and abdomen, if the aches he felt were anything to go by. He was still wearing his torn clothes from when Victo-

_Victor!_

Sherlock snapped upright in bed, looking about frantically. John's head whipped up from his laptop.

"Sherlock, calm down, love."

"W-where am I? And what are you doing here again? Trying to haunt me?"

"Sherlock-"

"You're a _hallucination._ You shouldn't be talking to me." Sherlock shook his head sadly. He always knew he would fall apart without John. He jist didn't know it would be like this.

"If I'm a hallucination, who cleaned and dressed your cuts? I'm pretty sure Victor doesn't care about you enough to even spare you a gentle touch," John said softly.

Sherlock's eyes widened. Could it be? He didn't want to reach out like the last time, only for his hand to go right through "John."

"I promise I'm here. Please, Sherlock, just trust me," John pleaded.

Sherlock reached out a shaky hand for the sleeve of John's jumper. His fingers rubbed against warm fabric instead of _nothingness._

He couldn't help it. Tears blurred his vision and tracked down his face.

John was here. John was _alive._

He choked down a sob and suddenly grabbed John around his waist, hugging him tightly. John stiffened in surprise at first, but relaxed into Sherlock's fierce embrace and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's much-too-thin shoulders. Sherlock had his face pressed into John's jumper, and was taking deep, gulping breaths of his scent. 

"Sherlock, it's ok. I'm here," John whispered.

"I thought I lost you. I thought he killed you," Sherlock mumbled, his voice muffled by John's jumper.

"He used a drug to remove the Bond. It's ok now. You're home with me. You don't ever have to worry about Victor ever again," John soothed, rubbing Sherlock's back gently.

Sherlock pulled his face away from John's middle and gazed up at him.

"The first time I woke up, he tried to... touch... me. I kicked him away, and he dragged me out of bed and beat me up. I curled up in a ball to protect myself, and that's the last thing I remember before waking up here."

John stroked Sherlock's cheek with the back of his hand. He ran the other hand slowly through Sherlock's dark curls, smiling at the look of pure bliss on Sherlock's face as he did so. Sherlock hummed and nudged his head into John's touch. John happily obliged by giving Sherlock's face another caress.

"I love you so much," John murmured. "I can never tell you enough times. I love you so much, Sherlock."

Sherlock let his eyes fall shut again 

"I love you, too, John," he whispered back, kissing the palm of John's hand.

"Are you feeling hungry? I don't think Victor fed you, did he?"

"I just want you, John..."

"Sherlock... You really shouldn't even be thinking about sex right now."

"Why not? I need you to re-Bond with me," Sherlock protested.

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"You don't have to go at our usual pace." Sherlock slipped his hand into John's. "We can just take it slow. We're re-Bonding. Let's make it special."

"Fine," John replied reluctantly. "But if _anything_ is too much for you, you have to tell me, and we'll stop immediately."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, reached up for John's face, grabbed it, and dragged him in for a filthy kiss. It was all slick tongues, clashing teeth, and hot breaths hanging between them.

John moaned into Sherlock's mouth, and slid his hands under the hem of Sherlock's torn t-shirt. He broke the kiss briefly to pull the t-shirt over Sherlock's head, then crawled into bed next to Sherlock to resume the ravishing of his Mate's mouth.

Sherlock laid down on his back and pulled John between his slightly-spread legs. John descended on his mouth again, rubbing his half-hard erection against Sherlock's matching hard-on. Sherlock and John moaned in unsion, hips grinding against each other's, desperate for more friction, more touch, more skin.

Sherlock's deft hands quickly divested John of his jumper and shirt as John pulled off Sherlock's pjyama bottoms and pants before returning to Sherlock's lips for another heated kiss. John slipped a hand between Sherlock's legs to stroke his cock a few times before circling the tip of his finger around the puckered flesh of Sherlock's arsehole. Sherlock shivered slightly, his fingers fumbling with John's belt. Once the belt had been thrown to the other side of the room, Sherlock shoved John's jeans and pants down at the same time. John pulled them off his feet and chucked them over the side of the bed, his finger never once leaving Sherlock's entrance.

John reached over for the bottle of lube in the bedside table and drizzled a liberal amount over his fingers. He slowly pushed a finger inside Sherlock, watching as Sherlock's face twisted into a look of pleasure. He slid the finger in and out of him a few times before slowly adding another finger. Sherlock started gasping out little pleasured noises when John started scissoring his fingers, stretching Sherlock wider and wider open.

"You ready?" John murmured in Sherlock's ear, his voice rough with lust. A shiver sped down Sherlock's spine as he nodded frevently.

John pulled his fingers out and lined himself up. Sherlock was practically _vibrating_ with anticipation, and when John slowly, _slowly_ pushed in, his mouth fell open and his head tipped back, exposing his long, white throat. John mouthed at Sherlock's collarbone and slowly kissed his way up Sherlock's neck as he bottomed out.

John started fucking Sherlock in long, slow thrusts, drawing the most beautiful sounds from Sherlock's lips.

_"Ah- John, just a bit m- Ah- Right there! Yesyesyesyeeeessss..."_

They continued at that pace for a while more, until Sherlock wrapped his legs around John's waist and angled his hips. John's cock his _just_ the right spot, and Sherlock made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, biting his lip and clamping down around John. John moaned out, low and long, and sped up a notch.

"J-John," Sherlock panted.

"Are you _ah-_ ok, Sherlock? _Yes, so good for me..._ "

" _Give it to me._ "

John's Alpha nature roared to life, and a low, guttural growl escaped his throat and he thrust into Sherlock harder. Encouraged by Sherlock's cries of pleasure, he picked up the pace, pounding into the Omega underneath him.

His orgasm was building, hot and low in his abdomen. His knot was starting to form, catching on Sherlock's rim with each thrust. Sherlock's curls were wild, getting more and more disheveled as John took him harder, deeper, faster. His moans were growing more and more desperate and he had pushed his face into the hollow where John's shoulder met his neck.

John prepared to make the Bondbite, licking and mouthing over the scent gland on the side of Sherlock's neck, drawing more gasps and mewls from Sherlock's lips.

"J-John..." Sherlock moaned.

"Almost, love. You're almost there."

"P-please touch me..."

"You can _ah-_ do it, love."

Sherlock nodded, clinging on to John for dear life.

When they were right on the edge of bliss, John scraped his teeth over Sherlock's scent gland. Sherlock tilted his head to the side, baring his neck to John in an obvious invitiation to _mark him, claim him, make him his._

So John bit down, hard.

The taste of salt and iron exploded in his mouth. Underneath him, Sherlock's body jolted and shuddered as he came, spilling between himself and John. John's knot slipped into Sherlock and locked the two of them together as Sherlock clenched around John, and his entire body caught alight. Every fibre of his being sang with the bright white pleasure of his orgasm. He spilled his semen deep inside Sherlock and almost collapsed on top of Sherlock. He flipped them over so that Sherlock was lying on top of him instead of the other way around, locked together by his knot.

Sherlock had fallen asleep, so John tugged the sheets over them and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist. He licked the bite to clean the blood from the wound, and watched as the flesh slowly began to knit itself back together. By the time they awoke, it would have scabbed over, and when the scab came off, there would be a fresh Bondmark, showing to the world that Sherlock belonged with John. Not _to_ John, of course, because Sherlock was his equal, and not a mere possession, as Victor may have once thought.

No, the Bondmark showed that Sherlock had chosen John and John had chosen Sherlock.

John smiled to himself and kissed the top of Sherlock's head before drifting off to sleep.

***

Bright morning light streamed in through a crack in the curtains. Two head peeked out from the sheets: one silver-and-wheat, and the other dark and curly. Two bodies lay intertwined: one Alpha and one Omega.

Gentle fingers ran through short, blonde hair. Soft lips trailed over a tanned chest.

The scent of _dark forest and warm sunlight, Sherlock and John, Alpha and Omega_ filled the room.

"Good morning, love."

_His Mate._

The silver-and-wheat head turned to face the dark and curly one. Cobalt blue eyes blinked open. A sleepy smile spread over his face.

"Good morning, Sherlock."

"Another round?"

"God, yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my first time writing smut... Hope it was a good attempt...
> 
>  
> 
> Aaaaaahhhhh, thank you guys for reading!!! This fic has gotten one of the biggest responses I've had so far, so thanks again for reading!
> 
> If you ever feel bored or anything, come and visit me on my tumblr and chat with me! My ask box is always open, and I'd love to meet some of you guys :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [willasherlyscottholmes](http://www.willasherlyscottholmes.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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